Her Eggs My Basket

Well frikkin' frick. The appointment today did not go super great. Today was my lining check to see if that extra estrogen pill in the glory hole would fluff up my uterine lining a bit more. But all I saw on the monitor was a big middle finger from my pretentious uterus. Actually what we saw was that my lining was in fact a little bit thinner. Dr. B, being the fabulously intelligent guru she is, deducted that my body is just very sensitive to these silly synthetic hormones. The more estrogen we added the more offended my uterus became. I've always considered myself a bit of a crunchy gal. I'm not quite full blown hippie, but I do have crunchy granola type tendencies. I cloth diapered, was borderline vegan because of my kid's dairy problems, I nursed for 36 years and I treat recycling like a religion. So apparently my uterus would like to be a bit more natural as well. Dr. B wants to try dropping this fake ass excuse for a lining I have and start fresh next month w

I double checked and today isn't Friday. But boy Wednesday the 13th seems just as unlucky.  I had my final lining check scheduled this morning to make sure the ol uterus was good and fluffy.  So I woke up at 5, not for the appointment, but because of my Mother's Day gift. My dear Sweet Pea bestowed the generous gift of a stomach virus on me Sunday, and although I seemed in the clear yesterday, it came back with a vengeance this morning.  I pulled myself together and got ready. I even put in my lucky turtle earrings for good measure.  I hopped in the car to head to the clinic, but I stopped at the end of the driveway to check my tires. Last night I got a memo on my dash that my left front tire was low. It was dark so I didn't use the gauge but I walked around and checked all 4 visually. I pushed on them and they seemed fine.  So this morning as I'm hurrying to get to my appointment I got the gauge out to check the left front tire just as my dash said.  Nope. Perfect pres